M is for... Mama of Four

Triya occupied a little more than one seat wherever we went, yet I was teased for being a mother of four. They never said it to my face, but we heard the hushed mutterings. The world always exaggerates, I would defend, and would ask Triya not to take it to heart.

She didn’t.

But I did.

‘I have a plan for you Triya,’ I declared when she brought home her graduation degree. She was a brilliant kid, I never had to worry about her academics. I had only one concern on my mind which gave me sleepless nights. Ever since she was a teenager, I was never without a proposal. It started with slimming pills suggested by Mrs. Verma, followed by naturopathy devised by Pragya, switched to feeding a fat cow once every fortnight as advised by Jaya, and so on.

‘I am going to convert our farmhouse into a retreat centre for you. You will have a nutrition expert and a gym instructor visit you every day. I have assigned two caretakers who will be at your beck and call 24/7,’ I announced. ‘Me and you father will visit you all the time.’

I am sure her heart would have sunk hearing this. Just a few moments prior to this she was rejoicing the fact that she was awarded a gold medal from the university. She had planned to take all her friends and celebrate this joyous occasion in the hills of Shimla at a five-star property. Suddenly the idea of a ‘retreat’ must be sounding like a gory one.

‘Mama!’ Triya screamed. ‘I’ve promised you I will shed twenty kilos this year. I will study at home, work with dad in the office and be available for whatever you decide to put me through. Why do you want to take this extreme step?’ I saw tiny lines of tears trickle down her eyes.

She must have thought of all the people I had met and spoken to in the last few weeks, she was extremely smart. This required a lot of strategizing against her and only my sister was capable of formulating such a devious plot.

‘This is Shanti Masi’s idea, isn’t it? I should have known you two were onto something. All those visits to the farmhouse were not for a party…were they?’ I heard Triya ramble while I just stood next to the dining table with a solemn face. She scored a 100/100 yet again.

‘You need to sit down first.’

She was furious, yet she grabbed a seat. Triya was always such an obedient kid. When girls her age were having tubs of ice-cream, she was eating from a box full of sprouts. She cheated only once a week, yet she lost only a kilo or so in a whole month. I was disappointed, and Triya could gauge my sadness in my eyes. My prayers had failed me yet again, and another remedy had rendered useless.

‘Triya, I know this is a very difficult thing that I am telling you to do. Next year you will be gone to America to pursue higher studies. There will be no one to cook low calorie meals for you. You will not have time to exercise. You have to reduce by at least 30 kilos, how will you be able to do that? It will be harder than it has been in the last 6 years, and you know how hopeless all your previous efforts have been?’ I explained calmly.

Her tears wouldn’t stop, and she was beginning to cough. ‘So, you are saying I will not be able to go out or meet my friends during this period?’ she asked trying to understand the plan through her pain.

‘You could. But only the ones who support you one hundred percent in your effort, who understand that you are on a regime that cannot be broken at any cost,’ I said, almost sounding like a military officer. ‘Look Triya, I have seen you heartbroken. When all your friends had a boyfriend, and you were a third wheel, you would cry yourself to sleep. I want you to have any man you desire, and for that, you know what you have to do.’

‘Make you a Mama of one,’ said my sensitive girl and walked into her room.

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This story is a part of AtoZ challenge by Blogchatter. For the 2020 challenge, I'll be writing some travel stories and some stories that originate in my life but find a way into this blog through fiction. I am new at this, so please be kind!!!